


Losers, Weepers

by WickedMusic96



Category: Ghostbusters (Movies 1984-1989)
Genre: Basically a "what if" for after the end credits for Ghostbusters, Gen, We don't see Peck after Stay Puft explodes, so this is me answering where he went
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-04 00:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17887865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedMusic96/pseuds/WickedMusic96
Summary: Walter Peck visits the ghostbusters after Stay Puft.





	Losers, Weepers

The skies had cleared over Manhattan within an hour of the Ghostbusters destroying a mad god and their temple. Bright blue skies fading to the warmth of November, people carefully going around the rubble and marshmallow ectoplasm that littered the streets. Most people were either buzzing about the events that had happened only a few hours ago, others trying to get through the city and on with their daily lives, avoiding the massive puddles of goo that were haphazardly placed throughout the street. 

All except for one man.

Walter Peck moved in a daze down the street, up to the Ghostbusters HQ. He was absolutely covered in the gunk, and the impact left him limping a little as he shuffled, leaving little flecks of marshmallow behind as he walked. If not for the sight of a now ruined Armani suit and his hair, people could have easily mistaken him for a snowman come to life. He had wanted to head home; truly he did. He desperately wanted to pretend this was just a bad dream and that he would wake up soon, comforted and cozy in his bed, but the constant stickiness of every step told him that he was fully awake, and that he would be likely facing some sort of work related hell in good time. He would have turned tail and left the state if he could, except for one little thing that had popped into his mind as he shuffled down the sidewalk. 

 

He had forgotten his briefcase at the Ghostbusters HQ when he had ordered the shut down of their facilities. 

 

Trudging down the street, and trying in vain to ignore the onlookers gawking, he finally made it to the door of their building. For a good minute, he just stared at the door, like it would suddenly swallow him whole. He put his marshmallow covered hand on the heavy doorhandles, and pushed them in, stepping over the opening and staring down at the floor.

At first, he thought no one was in the building, so he took a cursory glance up. Instead, he was greeted with the shocked face of their receptionist, who had almost poured her cup of coffee over her shoes when she saw him there. Her face seemed to consider laughing, only to stop and grab a washrag that was on the side. He couldn't see the others there, but he could hear them murmuring, with Venkman's sounding the proudest, the cocky sense of victory at seeing Peck covered in the residue. He could only glower under the gunk that covered parts of his face. Suddenly, the damp rag came to contact with his cheek, and he flinched when he saw the secretary was trying to wipe it off of him. He should have been touched at this act, but he instead flinched away, and glared at her.

" _Don't touch me_ " Peck hissed out. The woman just gave him a pouty glare, and turned on her heel. Peck looked back to the other ghostbusters, each in states of shock as he slowly walked to them, limping as he did, dragging more gunk behind his steps.

"...I believe, gentlemen...that you have something of mine..."

Venkman was the only one to scoff at him. "What's that. Your dignity? An apology for the fact that we were right and you almost doomed the city? Your job?"

Peck grit his teeth, and glared, fists clenching with the marshmallow now digging under his finger tips. If he could get home alive, he swore he would never even so much as  _look_ at another marshmallow ever again.

" _My briefcase...if you please._ " he managed through clenched teeth. The one next to Venkman, Stantz from the look on his jumpsuit, sprung up and left to head down to the basement. Peck didn't want to look at the smug grin that Peter was sporting, so he instead tried to focus on anything that wasn't his feet. Peck stared at the doorway where the man disappeared to, and heard what sounded like frantic begging and arguments with the other two men. He held his head high when he heard Venkman snicker at the arguing, trying to give the air of a stiff upper lip and some semblance of dignity. Stantz returned a short while later, a sheepish look of apology on his face as he held out Peck's briefcase.

Or what remained of it, to be precise. The middle and sides were charred and torn from the explosion, and the handle was barely hanging onto the rest of it. There was a hole near the top and Peck could already smell the burnt papers that he had with him to prove his side in court. There was no way they would be able to use them now if he decided to sue. 

He snatched the case from the other man's hands, and clutched it close to him, trying to not get any more marshmallow on it if he could manage. "This isn't over, Ghostbusters... _N-not by a long shot_." Peck stammered out, backing away to the exit, looking frantic, until the doors shut behind him and he was back to the warm air and the busy street. He felt like he was going to be on the verge of tears.  _What am I supposed to tell my superiors about this?!_ he thought, trying not to hyperventilate.

" _What am I going to do... _What am I going to do?_ " _ Was all he could mutter as he walked home, trying to avoid more stares and pointing fingers as he walked to the elevator to his apartment room. Walter figured that a warm bath would help to clear his head; and he could at least just get the stuff off him and the suit. No dry cleaner worth their salt would take in the suit, and even if they could, it would cost his entire bank and savings account to fix it. This changed as he managed to walk into the apartment, and he collapsed onto the rug inside his front door, bursting into hysterical sobs. 

 

After calming down enough, rinsing himself clean and burning the suit, Peck did the only sensible thing he could think to do, and started to work on the bottle of whiskey he kept in his cabinet. He was halfway done with the bottle when he got an idea. He could calmly and rationally explain to his superiors that he was tricked. There was no fault of his own for this. He would get their backing. He would get new papers, contact new judges -  _harsher ones -_ and he would explain that he was not at fault for this, and that everything that had transpired was the result of the Ghostbusters pulling the wool over the publics eye. 

They hadn't seen the last of Walter M. Peck. 


End file.
